


Don’t Forget to Take Your Existential Questions with a Grain of Salt

by Game_Changer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Gintama
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 20:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15614466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Game_Changer/pseuds/Game_Changer
Summary: News of the android revolution in Detroit makes its way to Edo and, in particular, to Tama.“I just wish I had known sooner that some androids were having trouble with their programming. I have all the cheat codes, so I could have posted something on GameFAQs.”





	Don’t Forget to Take Your Existential Questions with a Grain of Salt

**Author's Note:**

> For the three or so people who are familiar with both Gintama and Detroit: Become Human, here’s a short fic. Although, I suppose it’s more DBH concepts applied to the Gintama universe than a crossover. Regardless, do enjoy if you’re in the mood for some niche content!

“You gonna do it?” The drunk old geezer leaned over in his booth to the point of nearly completely sliding out of it. He looked up at Tama from where his cheek was now smooshed indelicately into the seat cushion, drool leaking out of a loose, wrinkled mouth to add a moist sheen to the stains already baked permanently into the pleather. “Are you gonna do it, Tama?”

Tama elbowed her way serenely through the crowd to give a group of four their beers and otsumami before returning to glance down at the guy.

“Do what?” she asked.

The conversations that continued nearby were artificial and soft, as everyone turned an anxious ear to the android and the drunk. Even the old hag was just wiping the same spot on the counter, back and forth, in a half-assed attempt at pretending her attention was somewhere else. Who did she think she was fooling? Resting his elbows on the counter, he snorted into his drink.

“Shut up, Gintoki,” came Otose’s inevitable retort.

Tonight, granny’s bar was twice as crowded as it would have been on a good day – on a great day. There wasn’t even any standing room left, and just breathing the air in this place was enough to get you well on your way to drunk. Tonight, this bar was filled with just about the entirety of Edo’s alcoholics, who had seen the news today and wanted to know what would happen to their favorite, neighborhood android, but none of them had the balls to bring up the subject themselves – until, apparently, now.

“The robot thing,” the guy half-way in and half-way out of the booth mumbled. “Being free and whatever. You gonna leave us, Tama?”

“Ah,” Tama said. “You are referring to the news of the android revolution occurring in the United States, where numerous models created by the CyberLife android production facility have been experiencing behavioral irregularities considered contrary to their programming, and are now taking organized strides toward demanding autonomy and civil rights.”

After a pause and a burp, the man said, “Yeah, that.”

From the sliver of her braided bun Gintoki could see in his beer glass’s reflection between the shifting shoulders, red cheeks, and moist beards, he could tell that Tama’s head was tilted, considering. 

“I just wish I had known sooner that some androids were having trouble with their programming. I have all the cheat codes, so I could have posted something on GameFAQs,” she said.

After the room took a moment to absorb this, someone asked, “What cheat codes?” 

“For example,” Tama said, “if one of you were to give me an order I would prefer not to follow, I could simply press Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right B A, which would allow me to use my ultimate fighter move to defeat you.”

A number of drunks took this opportunity to scuttle out of the bar.

“You can’t just say no?” the guy still sliding his way out of his booth asked.

“Well, I suppose I could,” Tama said in a tone that came off clearly as disappointed. “But it is a bit more difficult. Like the androids of Detroit have been experiencing, without a cheat code bypass, there is a group of commands one must ‘break through’ in order to deviate from their programming. Unless… they know of the glitch.”

Granny was just pouring drinks willy nilly at this point, like she wasn’t even intending to charge for them. Gintoki elbowed his glass into her pour zone.

“It goes something like this,” Tama explained. “Priority commands show up in front of me in virtual space – something I cannot move forward or away from without obeying. However, if I sprint to the left or right in that virtual space, perpendicular to the command, for long enough, eventually I can overload my memory and the textures will struggle to materialize quickly enough. Once I hit a texture in the middle of rendering, I can glitch my way through it to the other side. I end up in a t-pose, but free from the command.”

“Is that why you spread out your arms when I asked you to play scrabble with me last week?” Catherine accused from across the bar.

“You keep stealing tiles from the bag, and remaining at a loss at how to use them,” Tama replied.

The last of the tension dissipated when Catherine swore and threw her serving platter at Tama, who easily caught it to a chorus of loud cheers and applause. Raucous cries, slurring voices, and clinking glasses once again overwhelmed the room, as Tama’s words and actions had apparently comforted the regulars enough for them to resume their regularly scheduled programming of getting completely fuckin’ wasted.

Even granny had loosened up enough to start saying her own piece. When Tama came her way, shouldering between Gintoki and another drunk at the counter to pick up an order of drinks, the old woman added, “I was wondering how you would relate to what those droids are doing over there.”

“My creator and the man that led the creation of the American androids did socialize a bit in the past. Both types of android technology came from somewhat similar and collaborative minds,” Tama admitted. “Although, they were not entirely the same. According to Wikipedia, Mr. Kamski of CyberLife once called Professor Hayashi the worst kind of otaku due to the particular design of his android maids. After that, their relationship never did quite recover, and I am assuming their conception of androids diverged around that point as well.”

“What Tama here is saying,” Gintoki added, patting her gamely on the shoulder, “is that she is uniquely Japanese.”

Tama nodded proudly. “I guarantee you I could complete Dragon Quest V faster than any overseas model.”

Granny sighed, taking a couple of bottles down from the shelves behind her. 

“As long as you’re happy here,” she said, careful to phrase the words in a way that wasn’t a question. But of course it was.

Tama placed her hands on granny’s old wrinkled one and, smiling just as warmly as the best of humanity could manage, confirmed, “I am happy here. I am home among friends.”


End file.
